His world’s prescribed:
trees, grass, flowers
familiar, people friendly,
dogs happy or yappy, but he knows
which are which.
With confidence he leads me, wagging,
’til a flash of sunlight streaks a car,
a rake is left haphazard on the walk,
or bags of garbage suddenly appear.
Then he stares
and growls a question or a threat.
He barks at snowmen,
and that fireplug he peed on in the sunshine
becomes a stubby monster in the dark.
furry and endearing.
– Sarah Russell
First published in Dog Days: A Celebration of Dogs
For Real Toads “dog poems”